Per Amore e Fiducia
by Ink-erPAINT-er
Summary: Harry has just defeated Voldemort, but now he has problems of a different nature: a re-sorting, ex-friends, betrayal, and of course, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini are in love with him. Threesome, slash, Slytherin!Harry, extreme child abuse, H/D/B Triad
1. Bello

**THIS STORY HAS BEEN EDITED! I went back through it because I'm trying to get out an update, so here's a new and approved chapter!**

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><p><em><strong>THANK YOU TO MANY PEOPLE FOR POINTING OUT TIME AND AGAIN THAT EVERY CHARACTER WAS SOMEHOW NAMED 'HARRY'. THIS HAS BEEN FIXED. AGAIN. HOPEFULLY FOR REAL THIS TIME.<strong>_

**Well i first posted this over at HPFandom, and i got about 28 or so reviews, more than i have EVER gotten before. I decided to try it here.**

**This story has SLASH, THREESOMES, CHILD ABUSE, VIOLENCE, SELF-HARM, AND SLASH. AND SLASH AGAIN.**

**It is pretty dark, and not for the faint hearted. I warned you. **

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1: Bello<strong>_

Not for the first time in his life, Harry Potter thought the sentence: _Why is it always me?_

He glanced at the calendar on which he usually counted the days left until he returned to Hogwarts. It was only July first, but he was already dreading September…

After defeating Voldemort (pure luck, might he add!) He had to go back to Hogwarts. He had assumed this of course, but now…

Of course, you're probably thinking, 'Isn't that a good thing?', because Hogwarts is Harry's favourite place, is it not? Well it is, but there was one little problem.

The re-sorting. Headmistress McGonagall had deemed it appropriate that, in light of the war and whatnot, the coming sixth years should have a chance to be re-sorted. War changes you after all.

Harry snorted aloud at the thought. It sure does change you, and he knew where he would be placed as soon as the Sorting Hat touched his head.

Slytherin.

He wasn't looking forward to his friends' reactions, but that was that. He knew were he belonged now. He had changed, just like Minerva no doubt knew he would.

Looking out the window over Privet Drive, Harry thought about the last few weeks. It had shocked everyone that none of the Slytherins had actually been on Voldemort's side…at least not in Harry's year. In fact, some of them – Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Millie, Tracey, and Theodore – had even fought _with _the Light during the Last Battle. However, Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe Sr., and Goyle Sr., along with many other Death Eaters _had _been convicted as Dark, but as a thank-you to his son's help, Lucius was kept under wand-arrest at Malfoy Manor.

However, the Slytherin Problem was not Harry's biggest issue. He had also come to the realization –in his fourth year, really – he was gay. It was simple, and acting like he and Cedric hadn't been together just because of their rather large age deference was an insult to his memory, Harry thought.

And people had wondered why he was so upset when Cedric died…it wasn't enough, of course, that a person had been murdered right in front of Harry's eyes, but for it to be his first crush…his first _kiss…_

Harry jerked his thoughts out off that road. He hadn't really _loved _Cedric, but he had liked him a fair bit, and Harry put a great deal of emphasis on first kisses.

Harry had no doubt in his mind that he would never find anyone else. Not because Cedric was his one true love or anything, but because, well, who would want _Harry?_

Not the Chosen One. Not the Boy Who Lived. Harry.

He knew the answer to that: no one.

If only he knew what was happening at that very moment…

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><p>In a large Manor miles and miles away, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini both knew something was missing.<p>

"Dray…" Blaise murmured from the blonde's neck, not even able to bask in the afterglow as usual, because something was just _wrong._

"I know," agreed Draco, pulling back slightly to look into the nearly black eyes. "I know…but what should we do? Do you even think he's–"

"I've never even seen him _look _at a girl that way, but Diggory on the other hand…" Blaise's voice trailed off at the end. Few people suspected Harry's and Cedric's relationship, but the two Slytherins – who watched Harry so carefully – did.

Draco nodded, considering. "I think we should write him a letter – ask if he'd be interested in seeing us. I just can't wait until we all get back. Agreed?"

"All right, but we have to be careful what we say…" replied the Italian, starting to sit up.

"Hey!" cried Draco, yanking him back down. "Who said you were allowed to get up?" He grinned as he began kissing Blaise's neck, running his hands over his stomach, and the Italian boy squirmed.

"Okay, okay, I get it!" he gasped, trying to get away. "You know I'm ticklish!"

The blonde grinned again, relenting in his assault and laying his head on Blaise's chest, thinking again how he wouldn't be there if it wasn't for the boy under him….

After the ferret incident in fourth year, Blaise took it upon himself to help Draco become…well, nicer. Or at least not so obviously mean. Eventually, Draco realized that Blaise was right, and somehow, one night in the astronomy tower – studying, of course! – Blaise kissed him. Being brought up by a loving witch mother and – in Blaise's case – loving wizard fathers, they were both quick to discover that they were meant for each other, but something was missing. They did some research on wizarding couples and learned of Triads; and, a few months later, they knew who would complete them.

It wasn't completely unheard of for wizards or witches to form Triads, and it certainly wasn't at all unusual to be gay – at least in the wizarding world. When a witch or wizard _knows _their true mate, the call to be with them is almost overpowering. In the accounts of most Triads, two would find each other and then have to search out the other and woo them as well. That was what Blaise and Draco were trying to do.

)(

"Here!" Blaise finally said, thrusting the parchment across the desk at Draco and slamming his head down on the table in exhaustion. Draco chuckled, looking down at the hopefully finished letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I suspect you won't appreciate congratulations on the defeat of Voldemort – Merlin knows you probably receive a hundred a day – so I'll get right to the point. _

_We – that is to say, Draco Malfoy and I – would like to ask you if you would consider dating us. I'm not sure if you know, but it is not so uncommon for three wizards to be together, and we've liked you since fourth year, really. I'm sure you'll think this is a joke, but we are quite sincere in our wishes, and we think that if anyone deserves happiness, that person is you._

_If wasn't fair, you being forced to save the wizarding world at only fifteen, loosing so many people in the process… We would like to show you care and affection you deserve – for giving so much for everyone, and for just being _you. _You deserve to have someone to take care of you, for once, and we would like to do that._

_We want to earn your complete trust, so please find at the bottom of this letter both mine and Draco's magical signature verifying our truth in this matter. A simple spell will prove their truthfulness_

_We deeply hope you will accept out offer, Harry, Bello. Please think about it._

_Amorem,_

_Blaise Zabini._

Draco grinned at the simple words of affection Blaise had slipped in, calling Harry _love _and _beautiful _without the boy ever knowing.

"It's perfect," Draco said, kissing the back of Blaise's neck. The Italian simply groaned and Draco smiled again. He had a way with words, but Blaise became very stressed when actually _composing _a letter, especially to someone so important.

Draco looked at Blaise for a moment, but he still hadn't moved. Shrugging, the blonde simply picked up the dark-haired boy and carried him to the bed. They may have been inches apart in height, but Draco wasn't soft by any means.

"Draco – what–? No, let me sleep…" he groaned, exhausted more from the prior activities' in that bed then by the letter to Harry. The other just smiled and laid him on the bed on his stomach, then began to gently rub his back. Blaise sighed in appreciation and murmured. "Nevermind…I'll stay here…"

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><p>Harry had just swallowed his meal for the day – another can of cold soup, this time tomato – and was feeling very thankful that Hedwig was at the Weasley's, as he didn't have to share. He had only been at privet drive for a month and already could see his ribs easily…<p>

Letting out a very undignified whimper of hunger, Harry started back for his bed when he noticed an owl at the window. It was a barn owl, and perched precariously on the bars the covered the glass.

Wondering who on earth would write to him besides Ron and Hermione, Harry opened the door, thanking Merlin that there was no lock this summer.

The bird flew in and dropped a letter on Harry's bed, then flew into Hedwig's cage and began to drink from the water dish. Harry was startled at the bird's boldness for a second, then, shrugging, he picked up the letter.

It was addressed with simply his name, and he glanced down at the name at the bottom as he unfolded it.

_Why would Zabini be writing to me?_ He wondered as he sat down and began to read.

Five minutes later, after reading the letter about six times, Harry was convinced he was asleep. Or perhaps hallucinating, as an outcome of his hunger.

The signatures were indeed real, and he knew that Draco had not been at all hostile towards him since after the Ferret Incident, but they hadn't exactly been best mates either. More importantly, _why _would _anyone _want to date Harry?

He fingered the gilded edge of the parchment, thinking…

On the other hand…who cared about their motives? They obviously liked him for him; the signature said that much…perhaps there was something that they saw that Harry didn't?

Harry almost laughed at the thought. No, surely they would get tired of him eventually, and that would hurt, yes, but could he resist someone _caring _for him? They had said they would take care of him…that would definitely be nice…

No, Harry decided, he couldn't resist. Smiling as the barn owl flew over to him shoulder and nuzzled gently, Harry grabbed some parchment and a quill.


	2. Tesoro

**This chapter is short, but there's one more before it really starts to kick off. I have them done, so i can post at anytime...Review ;)**

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><p><em><strong>This story has SLASH, THREESOMES, CHILD ABUSE, VIOLENCE, SELF-HARM, AND SLASH. AND SLASH AGAIN.<strong>_

_**It is pretty dark, and not for the faint hearted. I warned you. **_

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><p><strong><em><span>Chapter 2: Tesoro<span>_**

The next morning, Draco woke to a tapping on the window. He tried to ignore it at first, but it just got louder and louder until he groaned aloud, wondering where Blaise was. _He _was the morning person, not Draco. _He _needed to get the bloody window.

Trying to think of who could possibly be writing to them, the blond sat up, blinking blearily at the window. There was Rasputin all right, and the barn owl did not look happy at not being let immediately.

_Damn spoiled owl…_ Draco thought, rubbing his eyes grumpily.

Suddenly, Draco remembered. He jumped off the bed, nearly running to the window and yanking it open. Rasputin flew in, dropped the letter on the bed, and flew back out.

With trembling fingers, Draco opened the envelope.

_Dear Malfoy and Zabini,_

_Against all my instincts, I do believe you. I can't pass up the chance for someone to care for me, no matter how…hesitant I may be. Since the end of school, I haven't spoken to anyone from the wizarding world – until now. They've gotten what they want from me, I suppose, but I thought that at least Ron and Hermione wouldn't desert me…Anyway, it would be nice to not be stuck in here alone until September, or to at least have someone to talk to._

_How would this work? I can't leave the Dursley's except by foot, so I don't know how I could meet you anywhere… _

_Look forward to seeing you both soon,_

_Harry_

Draco smiled as he stroked his fingers over Harry's signature, aware of how sappy he probably looked. He re-read the letter, and his smile turned to a frown as he saw the third sentence. How could Harry's friends just abandon him like that? He had saved all their miserable lives, and this is how they repaid him?

Blaise entered the bedroom to find Draco sitting on the black silk bed, a note in his hand. At first, excitement took over – _Harry wrote back!_ Blaise thought, grinning – but then he saw Draco's frown.

"What is it?" Blaise asked immediately. "What did he say?"

Seeing the worry on Blaise's face, Draco quickly said, "No, don't worry, he said yes. Read it."

Blaise took the letter and read through it quickly, his frown deepening every second. Glancing up at Draco, he said, "How could they just stop talking to him after all that time?" He, like Draco, couldn't imagine a friend doing that.

Draco nodded, lying back on the bed. "I don't know. I can't imagine how you could throw out six years of friendship like that…"

But boys thought for a minute, but then realized that – from Weasley at least – this could be expected. He had always left Harry for one reason or another, always coming back and 'forgiving' him. Granger, however…they thought she was different than that. To Draco and Blaise, it was inconceivable to break a friendship on grounds other than betrayal. They had been friends with Vinnie, Greg, Pansy, Millie, and Theo since they we small – a pureblood necessity for the most part, but they did like each other, unlike some of the other Slytherins – and they were all quite close.

After a few minutes, Blaise said, "What should we do with Harry for our first date? It'll have to be near where his relatives live…where is that anyway?"

Draco sat up, his brow furrowed. "Er…I don't know." There wasn't much that Draco would admit to not knowing. "We'll have to write and ask him. I'm sure some of father's old…associates can help us find what we need in whatever area Harry is."

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><p><em>Harry,<em>

_First of all, thank you very much for accepting us, tesoro. We understand that it took a lot of courage to trust when you've been hurt so much, and we promise not to disappoint you._

_We have an idea of what we can do for our first date, but we need to know where you live so we can adjust our plans to that area._

_We hope to see you soon,_

_Draco and Blaise_

Harry smiled in spite of the fiery pain on the side of his face. _Date. Promise. Tesoro?_ He wasn't sure what the last meant, but it sounded nice.

He scribbled down the information, adding that they would have to be sure to come when the Dursleys were out, and then watch Rasputin fly away with it.

As the owl disappeared in the distance, Harry turned back to face the room. He caught sight of his reflection in the cracked mirror and grimaced. The cut and large bruise could be hidden easily with Glamours like the scars on his arms already were (the Ministry was pointedly ignoring any magic Harry did now, as long as it wasn't in front of Muggles. Harry thought it was the very least they could do for him). However, the thinness of his face and the bags under his eyes would be harder…

He was thankful, for the first time, that he had allowed Severus to fix his eyesight last year; at least he wouldn't have to wear glasses.

Digging out his nicest pants and shirt, Harry cast a spell to clean them – learned from Hermione of course – and hung them in the wardrobe. He carefully lay down on his stomach, wincing from the still-sore welts on his buttocks and thighs (Harry had dropped a slice of toast that morning) and wished that his friends would write so that he could at least ask for some food. He wouldn't request that of Draco and Blaise, of course; it would no doubt only make them tire of him sooner.

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><p>"Here's one in Little Whinging; it's called<em> Il Calice Dorato<em>." Draco said, scanning the letter that his father's old friend had sent back.

"That means 'the gilded cup'," translated Blaise. "It's Italian."

"It is." Agreed Draco, a smirk on his pale face, "And it's also the _best_… at least in the UK. Merlin knows why they put it in _Little Whinging _of all places."

Blaise frowned slightly. "Yes…it does seem like a poor location choice, doesn't it?"

The room was silent for a minute, then Blaise suddenly grinned widely.

"The best, you said?" he asked the blond. Draco nodded, and Blaise laughed loudly, laying back on the bed and laughing until his sides hurt.

"What?" demanded Draco, annoyed.

Wiping away tears of laughter, Blaise answered. "The _best._ Of course it is. I should have known that you wouldn't take Harry to any place _normal._"

Draco glared at the other boy.

"Come on, Draco!" Blaise grinned, shoving him playfully. "For _our_ first date, you took me to a _'nice' _place, and the soup was forty dollars by itself! I can hardly imagine what _The Best _could possibly be."

Draco was still glaring, and Blaise started to laugh again.

"Who knows how well he gets to eat? I wouldn't be surprised if those Muggles have been starving him!" he grumbled, crossing his arms in a pouting gesture.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Draco, I'm sure they're not _starving _him. Not all Muggles are evil; besides, Harry would have told someone."

Draco was still a little upset at Blaise's teasing of his expensive tastes, but now, looking down at Blaise…he couldn't make himself be upset anymore. Blaise's short, curly dark hair was still wet from his shower, and his dark blue shirt was unbuttoned, showing his lightly muscled chest…

Draco licked his lips and, smirking again, lay down over Blaise and pressed his lips to the Italian's. Blaise gasped in surprise – _Draco's mood swings will kill me one day, _he thought– and a thin tongue slipped between his lips. By the time the blond pulled away, Blaise was understandably breathless.

Draco grinned at him. "Would you _want_ to give Harry anything less than the best?" he asking, quirking an eyebrow.

At that, Blaise no longer had an argument.


	3. Diletto

**Okay, this has mentions of Cedric/Harry, cutting, and the next chapter with be absolutley-terrible -violent-the-worst-thing-you've-ever-read bad. At least in my opinion :D **

**And to all the lovely people who could be bothered to review...THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. **

**What's funny is, i got 49 emails and 11 reviews...sad... :'(**

**:D**

**By the way, sorry for any lingering mistakes in chapter 1. FFn is being crapcrapcrap and won't let me fix it :/**

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><p><strong><em><span>Chapter 3: Diletto<span>_**

_"Harry?" Cedric murmured. "Are you alright?"_

_Harry glanced up from the window he had been staring out of to see Cedric standing just under the small archway that led into the North Tower. It was a Hogsmede weekend, and two weeks after the First Task. Harry had been able to get away from Ron and Hermione under the guise of school work and figuring out the egg clue, but his boyfriend…well he was a little more difficult. _

_It wasn't that he didn't want to see Cedric. He did; very much actually. But he had heard a saying once, "If you burden your friends, soon you won't have any". He didn't burden Ron and Hermione, and he certainly wouldn't do so to Cedric._

_"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry flat out lied, hating himself. He clutched his sore arms closer, glad for the long sleeves he was wearing, and that the shirt was dark coloured. It would hide the blood better. "Just needed some time…away."_

_Cedric nodded. "I know what you mean." He grimaced, and Harry almost smiled. He knew that the older boy was referring to how he now had many, many girls – and a few boys – chasing after him after his almost-victory in the First Task. Cedric didn't hate the attention, but he didn't love it either._

_"Mind if I sit?" he asked uncertainly, and Harry nodded, looking out the window again. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the older boy wrapped an arm around his too-thin shoulders and pulled him close. Instinctively, Harry tried to pull away._

_"Please don't," whispered Cedric, voice full of emotion but still slightly awkward. It was the voice of someone who cared enough to comfort another, but wasn't sure how to go about it. Harry felt himself blush. Someone _cared_._

_"Cedric, I – I can't…it's too –" Harry's voice broke, and Cedric tightened his arm. _

_"You don't have to tell me, Harry. Just know that I'm here for you." _

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><p><em>Diletto,<em>

_We both truly cannot wait to see you, so could we possibly come get you tomorrow, say around seven? (Draco would kill me for telling you this, but he's been pacing the room almost non-stop since your last letter. He's anxious to see you again and make up for all the times you two fought in the past. ) _

_If you agree with the time, then we'll come to get you from your relatives' house. Don't worry; we'll take care of them. We're going to some place that Draco calls 'The Best', which, in my experience, means 'The Most Expensive' so it would be wise to wear something nice, though I'm sure you'll look beautiful in anything._

_Should you want to change the time or day, just tell us. Our schedule is completely open for you, Harry._

_Amora,_

_Blaise_

Harry, not for the first time after reading a letter from his two courters, grinned as he read, blushing at several parts. Draco wanted to see him? Blaise thought he was beautiful? And all those little endearments…Harry had no idea what they meant, but he could tell they were nice things.

His cheeks sore for the use of such under-used muscles, the black-haired boy ran his finger over Blaise's signature. He thought back to the few times he had seen Blaise at Hogwarts, and the many times he had seen Draco. Both had the same aristocratic nose – no doubt they shared at least one cousin or something – but Blaise had dark brown eyes and hair to match. Harry remembered admiring the fact that – though the Italian's hair was unbelievably curly – he managed to keep it neat, unlike Harry's wild hair.

Draco, of course, had white-blonde hair that – until their previous year – had been slicked back, but now hung loose over his pale (and flawless, of course) face, and his silver eyes reminded Harry of mercury.

The question was, what was _wrong_ with them?

Harry lay back on his tiny bed and rubbed his eyes roughly. Now that was the question, wasn't it? Two good-looking, well-to-do, and kind boys wanted to date him. Harry had marvelled at this since the first letter, but then he sat up.

"I said I wouldn't worry about this," he spoke aloud to himself, startling Rasputin, who was perched on the edge of his bed. "I'm just going to believe them. I will trust them." He told himself forcefully.

Suddenly Harry froze. A thought had entered his mind – what would Blaise and Draco say when they found out about the scars, the malnutrition, the – the _customers_?

Harry's heart sank. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this before. Maybe they liked him now, but when they found out how ugly he was – that he was damaged goods…there was no way they would want him.

Harry pinched himself roughly, trying to stop the tears. He would have some time before they learned about that – he should enjoy it while it lasted.

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><p><em>Dear Blaise &amp; Draco,<em>

_Tomorrow at seven sounds perfect. I'm very excited to see both of you as well, and Draco, I am completely willing to forget our past feuds if you are. We were children, and it doesn't really matter now. You two are the only one I have been able to speak to at all since Tom's death, and that certainly makes up for the past._

_Just to warn you, my uncle hates 'Our kind', as he calls it, and will no doubt insult and threaten you two. I'll apologize on his behalf right now._

_Harry._

"You told him?" Draco cried as soon as he read the first sentence.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Of course I did."

"Why?" Draco demanded, looking pouty again. He didn't want Harry to know the he knew how stupid he had been, as pointless as it might sound.

"Because he needed to know!" answered Blaise, slightly angrily. "It will make him feel better to know that someone regrets having hurt him."

Draco sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"I suppose you're right…as usual…" he conceded, and it was almost worth the admission when Blaise pulled him close and kissed him deeply.

But both of them pulled back at once, frowning.

"Harry's sixteenth birthday is coming up." Blaise murmured, both to himself and Draco. "That's why there aren't as many sparks. We need our third."

Draco nodded immediately. "I agree. All the older wizard mating books say that if the third of the bond is known, but hasn't been claimed, all the members of the bond will feel the affects more and more leading up to his or her sixteenth birthday."

Blaise moaned, falling back onto the bed in frustration.

"I suppose it's too soon to beg Harry to move in?" he questioned, eyebrow raised.

Draco laughed. "Perhaps…but if he said yes…" the blonde's voice trailed off.

"He'd probably want to stay with his relatives, though." Said the Italian sadly.

But maybe, just maybe…

"We'll see how tomorrow goes." decided Draco.


	4. La Douleur yet Pulchra

***This* would be the crazy scary chapter. You have been warned.**

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><p><strong><em><span>Chapter 4: L<span>_****_a Douleur yet _****_Pulchra_**

Harry Potter was a self-proclaimed idiot.

Thinking over it in his mind, he realized that the appropriate retaliation for being asked to clean Dudley's room was not to yell obscenities at his Uncle. No, that had been a very bad idea. But how was he supposed to know that the walrus had a bull-whip? Come to think, where in the hell had Uncle Vernon _found_ a bull-whip?

Harry had always known that his Uncle hated him. That he had anger management problems, and that he was pretty much a sadist. But this?

He remembered every single one of the three dozen strikes. On the first, he was in shock. Uncle Vernon had never really been this bad, not nearly this bad, so why now? By the third, he couldn't breath. He could feel the stinging, the blood that was dripping to the floor of the basement, were his Uncle had dragged him, muttering about not staining the carpet. If only he knew what he meant before, maybe he would have had a chance to run... At number six, he was praying for the strength not to scream. It would be considered weakness to scream, and Harry hated weakness, because weakness was what made his aunt and uncle hate him, and made him try and force his dull problems on others. However, at this moment he hated his Uncle even more. Nine, he was just praying. Would someone get him out of here? Did anyone even _care_ any more? He started blacking in and out around twelve, the blood loss starting to get to him, but it was at eleven when he saw their faces.

Blaise and Draco.

They were the only people who Harry thought might care and so, for the rest of the slashes – the searing pain, the dribbling of blood, the feeling that his back was being torn apart – he imagined the thing he wanted most.

To be _held._

Just to sit with someone – anyone, really – and be held. He had wanted it in the cupboard when his uncle had used the belt on him the first, at four. He had wanted it when Aunt Petunia screamed that she wasn't his Mummy, and that no one would want him near them, let alone to be his parent. He had wanted it when his Hogwarts letter came, and when he was in the Chamber of Secrets, and in the Graveyard, and when he'd lost Cedric…

And now Harry was hanging by his wrists in the basement. The basement. How clichéd was _that?_

He was taken down here around four or so… Harry estimated it was around five now.

_Only two hours left,_ he encouraged himself weakly, fighting the pain that we still very much there. _Surely Blaise and Draco will look for me…I hope._

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><p>"Is this it?" demanded Draco impatiently, nearly running to catch up with Blaise.<p>

The Italian laughed, reaching back to ruffle Draco's hair playfully. The blonde scowled at him.

"Calm down, Draco. We'll be there soon." Blaise soothed, searching the dark street. Number ten, Number nine, number eight…

"There it is!" Draco suddenly cried, pointing at a house identical to the others around it.

Both of them couldn't help smiling as the noticed the place where Harry lived. Nice lawn, good paint job…but why did one of the windows have _bars?_

The boys exchanged a glance, then shrugged. It was probably nothing…but as they neared the home…

Both Draco and Blaise gasped simultaneously, doubling over as if they had been punched.

"What – what was that?" breathed Draco, looking around. Several nearby neighbours were looking at the boys curiously.

"I…I don't know…" said Blaise, glancing up and down the block warily. "An attack?" But it hadn't felt like an attack at all…

Both of them had to be on their guard; not just for themselves and Harry – just a few yards away! – but for the surrounding Muggles too. They couldn't afford to meet any stray Death Eaters here…

Draco shook his head. "Doesn't fell like it…it reminds me of that time…" but the blonde's voice trailed off at the memory, and he and Blaise looked at each other in horror.

Harry.

It took them less than five seconds until they were on the front step of Number Four, and both raised a fist and banged unceremoniously on the door.

No one answered.

"Maybe they're not home…maybe Harry's not here." Suggested Draco half-heartedly, wanting to believe it. "He could be in trouble somewhere else…"

Blaise shook his head. He wasn't one to beat around the bush. "No, we can feel him. He's here." And with that the Italian – shaking slightly from anger and feelings that belonged not to him, but to their Third – pulled out his wand and blew the door open.

Draco raised a brow as the red door fell down with a crash.

"Alohomora not fancy enough for you?"

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><p>There was a loud BANG from overhead, and Harry flinched, coming back into consciousness and wincing painfully. He had never hurt so bad; not Crucio, not Polyjuice potion, not even Basilisk venom. It was different. It was worse.<p>

He knew it was either Blaise and Draco, coming to look for him, or his uncle. Both options made him want to cry, but he was too dehydrated to do so.

His voice had gone long ago, and Harry decided to save the rest of his energy. If they weren't able to find him…well, he didn't want to think of that.

* * *

><p>"Where could he be?" Blaise wondered as they entered the normal-looking house.<p>

Draco ran up the staircase, and Blaise heard him call Harry's name. No answer. Seconds later, the blond walked worriedly back down the stairs, shaking his head at Blaise's questioning look, and glancing into the kitchen while the Italian checked the living room.

Suddenly, both boys felt a stab of pain in their stomachs again, only worse this time.

"Harry's really hurt." Draco moaned when it had subsided. "What are we going to do? Where could he be hidden in a tiny house like this?"

Blaise nearly smiled at the almost-insult. He had to give Draco credit; he hadn't insulted Muggles once since they'd left the Manor, such was his worry for Harry. It was endearing.

"Perhaps an attic, or a basement?" Blaise suggested, rubbing his face with shaking hands. "I saw a door in the kitchen…it could lead to one."

Draco nodded, shivering slightly, and Blaise noticed that his characteristic Malfoy Mask was down. The dark-haired boy could see mostly fear for their Third, whom they hadn't even gotten to _know_ yet, and anger on his behalf at whatever the Muggles may have done to him. Draco was beautiful like this, and Blaise's heart clinched at his own thought: _I hope Harry gets to see him like this…_

They crept through the eerily clean kitchen, and Blaise cautiously opened the door.

"Don't," he said, catching Draco's hand as he reached for the light switch. "If he's really…hurt, you could throw him into shock."

Not able to speak, Draco nodded.

"Harry?" he called softly into the darkness as he and Blaise started down the steps. "Are you down here?"

* * *

><p>The next time Harry woke, he caught snippets of someone whispering: "Don't – you could – shock." And then another voice…saying his name.<p>

Harry nearly sobbed. They were _there._ They cared enough to try and save _him._

Or did they? What if…

But Harry shook his head firmly, making himself dizzy. He could worry about that later…he had to get enough strength to answer…just one word would do…

* * *

><p>"Harry?" Blaise called softly as they felt their way to the bottom. It was really creepy, and pitch black. Almost unconsciously, he reached for Draco's hand, but stopped after a second. Harry didn't have anyone to hold his hand down here, and he was hurt, probably bad. Blaise shouldn't have that comfort until Harry did.<p>

"Harry?" Draco whispered, feeling along the walls. "Are you down here?"

"Wait, Draco –" Blaise held out a hand to the other's nearly invisible chest. "I heard something…listen…"

It was quiet for a moment, then they both could hear shallow breathing.

Blaise felt his legs sag in relief, but he forced himself up, and they both moved in the direction of the breaths.

"Harry?" whisper Draco. "Are you –"

And from the darkness in front of them came an almost silent, _"Help…"_

Blaise didn't remember drawing his wand, or casting the soft Lumos. Draco didn't remember the pained gasp that he and Blaise seemed to breathe at once, but he did remember one thing. He would remember it **forever.**

Harry was hanging limply by badly bleeding wrists, his back a mass of bleeding stripes, and his head was lolled forward in an unnatural position. He looked…bad. His skin was the colour of parchment, his lips were bleeding, and he was thinner than could possibly be healthy.

"Draco…hold him…I'll – cut the ropes…" Blaise whispered brokenly, and Draco moved mechanically forward, bracing his hands carefully under Harry's arms. He noticed that the raven was terribly skinny – his ribs were clearly visible and, when Blaise severed the roped binding Harry's hands and the boy slumped forward onto Draco – he must have weighed around ninety pounds.

As the Italian carefully untied the ropes, Draco realized that Harry's shoulders were also hurt; being tied to the ceiling and only about five foot five, his toes had barely scraped the floor…

A moan brought both boys' instant attention to him, and Harry opened an eye slowly.

* * *

><p>They had come for him. They were really, <em>really,<em> there. Because they cared.

Harry realized it in that moment, looking into their terrified faces. The sentiments were true, the promise was true; they did want to care for him, care about him…

Love him.

He had to make them feel better. Their faces showed nearly as much pain as his, but for a much worse reason.

"'M okay," he murmured gently, smiling and causing his lips to crack and start bleeding. Draco and Blaise's presence seemed to make him feel stronger, and he continued just over a whisper, "Jus' stinez a bit." He promised, trying to keep his eyes open as Draco's pale face swum in and out of focus.

"_Harry_..." Draco nearly cooed, not trying to hold back tears, brushing away the drop of blood from his lip.

Blaise smiled softly, but he pointed his wand at Harry and said, "_Somno...Pulchra_."

"What did you do?" Draco demanded as Harry's eyes dropped and he went limp again.

"It'll be easier if he sleeps," informed Blaise. "He won't hurt anymore, and by the time he wakes up, he'll be healing."

Draco grimaced – he had wanted to hear Harry talk, to make certain that he was _really _alive – but he knew it was better for Harry this way. He cast a stasis charm on Harry's back to stop the stripes from bleeding so much, but he knew he couldn't do much else with only a wand...

"How are we going to get him back, though?" wondered Blaise. "We can't Apparate...or Floo..."

"We'll use a Portkey." Informed the blonde, brushing hair out of the raven's face gently. "Any other way is too slow or would hurt him."

The Italian frowned. "But unauthourized portkeys are illegal."

Draco raised a blood-stained eyebrow. "Does it matter?"

One look at Harry, and Blaise said, "No. It doesn't."


	5. Ama

**Sorry it took so long everyone! Thank you for the reviews; I've never gotten that many before :)**

**This has alot of fluff and cuddling, but it was the hardest chapter I've ever written. I found Draco very hard to write this time...no idea why. ****Thankyouthankyouthankyou to Think-Of-Nargles for writting like half of this chapter :D**

**Also, I want to add that they ARE NOT magical creatures. I took liberities with wizards, and decided that they have mates in my story. So that's why :D**

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Chapter 5: Ama<span>_**

Everything was a blur – Blaise went upstairs to fetch Harry's trunk, then Draco shrunk it while Blaise cursed all the Dursley's silverware to attack them the moment they came home, and finally Draco said "Portus" to a teacup.

Suddenly they were at Malfoy Manor again. Narcissa Malfoy, Aurora Sinistra, and Petra Sen came running out seconds later, all talking over each other.

Petra was Indian, with a beautiful dark-skinned face, and breathtaking golden-brown eyes. She had been Severus's nanny when he was young, and as a matter of fact, when Eileen Snape left Tobias, Severus was just thirteen, so Petra quietly got legal custody of him. They had lived together up until his death the previous year. Aurora, of course, was the Astronomy teacher at Hogwarts, and a good friend of Narcissa's, especially now that Lucius was sulking in a corner of the mansion frequently and therefore not around to interfere with happiness and such.

"I thought you were going out–" Aurora started.

"Who is–" gasped Petra over her, clutching a stitch in her side.

"– With Harry," continued Aurora.

"– that?" Petra finished, wide eyed, staring at battered boy.

"What happened–" started Narcissa.

"Is that him?" gasped Aurora, staring wide-eyed at her former student.

"–to him?" Narcissa gasped over the other two, looking at the raven haired boy as well.

Harry was cradled in Malfoy's arms as if he was a fragile as a piece of porcelain glass, to precious to lose, and for these to men – the men that had found him bleeding and inches from death – he was. The raven's hair was tussled, his torso just as bare as it was when they found it, and his eyelids shut. Draco sincerely hoped that being unconscious would help Harry not feel as bad as he must have before they found him. The blonde shot a frantic look at Blaise, wondering what to do next.

Thank Merlin the spell had worked, as it was only a Muggle weapon – wizard implements were usually cursed against Stasis spells. The boy wasn't bleeding, but he was out cold and his back and wrists looked horrible. This caused more worry to Draco than he would like to admit.

"Not sure," said the worried blonde. "His Uncle did it, we think."

Aurora stared at her former student's back in horror; Petra looked quite sick. Narcissa simply looked murderous. Harry had, after all, saved all three of them from Azkaban. He deserved much better than abuse from some _Muggles. _

"We need Potions." Blaise ordered, always the level-headed one. Now, however, it was obvious to even Aurora that he was hiding behind the Pure-Blood Mask; his hands were shaking.

"Now." He added when none of the women moved.

"I'll get them!" cried Petra, running back towards the house, happy to get away from the boys' pain.

"Here, I'll–" offered Narcissa, stepping toward Draco with her arms out, but the blond jerked backwards, shaking his head.

"No." he said simply, his heart thudding in his chest. Something deep inside of him wasn't ever going to let Harry go again. He glanced down at the small body in his arms, his eyes fiercely protective. He would protect him, even if it was from his own nightmares, his own mind.

Draco knew some of what it was like for mentally and physically abused kids – being the Slytherin he was, it was easy to overhear conversations that were never meant for his ears. So he knew that it was going to be very hard to help Harry from this point on, but first, they had to get him stable, had to get him well...at least in the physical sense.

The others followed – very confusedly on Narcissa and Aurora's part – after Draco as he nearly ran towards the Manor, still holding Harry securely.

"Here," said Petra, appearing from a side door that led to the potion's lab as they crossed through the elegant entrance hall. Blaise started to reach for the vial she held, but Draco shook his head. Petra had, after all, been employed for years at St. Mungo's. She was one of the few people the two Slytherins would trust with Harry, and she knew it.

The Indian woman expertly tilted the raven's head back and massaged his throat to help him swallow. Immediately, there was a soft gold glow surrounding Harry, and the five gathered around him watched as the wounds in his back started to knit back together.

"He'll have a few scars," whispered Petra sadly, not moving; the looks on Blaise and Draco's faces could have killed this 'Mr. Dursley' on the spot. "Some of those wounds were very deep, but they should heal very quickly. He does look malnourished though…And he'll be sore for awhile."

Both the boys nodded, and the women knew they were luck to get that much out of them.

"I'll have Qwerty bring up a light meal for Harry when he gets up…" said Narcissa weakly, thinking about one of their loyal house elves. Again, the two nodded as the others disappeare.

Though Aurora, Narcissa, and Petra were rather close to Blaise and Draco, none of them had ever seen such emotion written on the boy's faces – especially Draco. For a moment, they simply stood, watching the retreating dark and light heads. When the boys had ascended the staircase, Aurora exhaled loudly.

"I could use a drink; what about you two?"

* * *

><p>Upstairs, Draco was shaking, Blaise was pacing, and Harry…<p>

Harry was fast asleep, all of his injuries healed – minus the malnutrition, which would, obviously, take much more time. Only five scars remained on his back from the beating.

Blaise couldn't fathom why this happened. Wouldn't someone, _anyone_, know what was happening to the 'Golden Boy'?

_He's a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake!_ The dark haired boy thought, _You'd think they protected their own! Us Slytherins do at least..._

Draco watched the sleeping brunette with growing impatience. He wouldn't – couldn't believe that the slumbering boy was alright until he opened his eyes and said the words himself, even if they were only half-truths.

After a moment, Draco groaned aloud in frustration.

"Is he ever going to wake up?" He moaned, pulling at his blond hair.

Blaise chuckled nervously. "He needs his sleep, Dray. But he'll be fine, I mean…look at him!" The Italian waved his hand at Draco, who nodded slowly.

"He does look better. Much better. So skinny though…" A pale hand ran over the black-haired boy's prominent ribs, and Draco whispered quietly, _"Adsum, ama. Non nocere iterum..."_ The pale hand then started stroking through the black hair, and Harry smiled in his sleep. Draco seemed to glow at that; just knowing he could comfort the boy, even a little...

Blaise gasped, and Draco's thoughts were sadly interrupted.

"Aha!" He cried, pointing an accusing finger at the blond. "Emotions! You care about Harry!"

Draco jumped back from the bed like his hand was on fire. The mask was back, and Blaise nearly wished he hadn't said anything. His Mate was so beautiful without the mask…

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He said firmly, glaring at his boyfriend. Draco hadn't given a damn about Malfoy protocol and his Mask while Harry was hurt, but now that he was asleep and healed…and not looking at him with those beautiful eyes…

Blaise coughed loudly, and Draco flushed in embarrassment when he realized he had been staring – rather adoringly – at Harry. He hadn't had a chance, really; once a witch or wizard accepted their bond with who-ever-it-may-be, it was hard to hide their love for them. Draco, however, wasn't used to feeling for anyone other than Blaise, and both boys were good at hiding their emotions in public, which was why only their parents and closest friends knew of their relationship. He did care for his mother and mother-figures – Aurora and Petra – and their friends, but not in _that way _obviously.

But Harry was different. Neither Blaise nor Draco had been abused (or at least not that badly – Lucius wasn't exactly a cuddly type of dad, and Blaise had nearly been molested at a young age) so they weren't as openly protective with each other. It was the natural instinct of a Mate to become possessive of their Mate if something had hurt them badly.

"Alright!" Malfoy finally exploded after Blaise cleared his throat for the third time. "I care about him, okay! It's only natural."

Blaise shook his head tauntingly, the black curls bouncing around jovially as he did so. "No, Dray…I think it's more than that. You loooooove Harry!"

The blonde flushed again, shoving Blaise angrily as he said, "No. I. Don't!" but the darker-skinned boy simply laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Sure you don't, Draco." He said in a would-be casual voice, looking pointedly at Harry, who was yawning in his sleep.

Draco's heart melted at the sight, and he knew Blaise could see it in his face. Damn Potter for being so cute. Damn Blaise for knowing everything. Damn Dursley for hurting what was theirs. And damn his traitor heart from beating so fast!

Draco suddenly had the urge to beat his head against the wall.

"Fine." He finally admitted. "So I l-love Har – Potter. You do too!"

_Oh, so we're back to Potter now…_Blaise thought with a chuckle. _He's cute when he's defensive…Oh bloody hell, he's cute all the time. _

"Of course I do." He answered aloud. "I'm not afraid of my feelings."

"I was raised to be afraid of them, it's not my fault." Draco mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking pouty.

"I know," Blaise said, wrapping an arm around the blonde's shoulders and kissing his hair. Draco didn't even pull away; a good sign. "But Harry will need you to show how you feel. Calling him 'Potter', acting like you don't care, and never touching him will hurt him. We need his trust, and we need it by the end of the month or…"

His voice trailed off, neither wanting to think of the 'or', and Draco knew he would have to do it, painful as it may be.

"I'll do my best." He promised, and Blaise knew he meant it.

* * *

><p>After the welcoming blackness, Harry never expected to feel anything again. When he did, however, it wasn't actually bad.<p>

Nothing hurt, not really. There was a little soreness, but nothing too bad. He seemed to be in a large, warm, and very comfortable bed, and best of all, there was a soothing weight near him on the bed.

_What happened? _Wondered Harry, trying to keep his eyes closed and breathing even until he remembered.

_Flashes of red, crying, screaming, bleeding…._

_"Please Uncle Vernon! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" Harry sobbed, not even ashamed of his very un-Gryffindor-like begging. He couldn't even remember now what he had done, but it must have been something bad. Even if it wasn't, Harry knew he deserved it. He had gotten countless people killed – Sirius, Cederic, his own parents…_

_"You're damn right you won't, freak!" spat his uncle, panting heavily from the force of beating the child. _

_Another strike. Then another. Harry screamed, his arms and legs jerking spasmodically in an unconscious effort to stop the pain._

_"Please! No more! Please!" _

"Harry?"

A quiet voice brought him out of the flashback, and Harry automatically opened his eyes. Above him was none other than Blaise Zabini; dark curly hair, dark eyes, his face showing concern….

For him? For…Harry?

"Are you alright? Does it hurt? Where?" Blaise asked immediately, scanning the blankets over Harry as if trying to see through them. At that moment, the raven felt a dampness on his cheeks and realized he had been crying.

Embarrassed, Harry tried to reply, but his throat was so dry he couldn't manage to form the words. Blaise noticed.

"Here!" he said quickly, picking up a glass of water from the bedside table and lifting it to Harry's lips. The green eyed boy almost cried as he felt the cool liquid fill his dry throat. It was like he could finally breathe again. He suddenly felt all the soreness move to the back of his mind – as long as he had water, the rest would be fine. He gulped down as much as he could get, small drops falling around his mouth, as Blaise was holding the cup. All too soon, he felt the cool edge of the glass leave his cracked lips. He almost whimpered from the loss of contact. He wanted to drink it all! Was that so bad?

"Harry, you can't drink it all, _petit amour_," Blaise said, chuckling nervously. Harry nearly wanted to cry again. "You have to pace yourself; you'll only get sick."

Harry pouted unintentionally, but he knew Blaise was right. He really should slow down: a few sips at a time, not move too much, maybe eat something….but damn it, he wanted that water!

Clearing his throat, the raven tried to distract himself.

"Where – where am I?" he asked the Italian. "And where's Dra – Malfoy? What happened? Did you guys…save me?"

Blaise smiled, chucking at Harry's use of 'Draco' accidentally. The raven and the blonde were very similar in many ways. "You're at Malfoy Manor. Draco is downstairs seeming off his mother and her friends; they're going to Francefor holiday. And I suppose you could say we saved you…" He reached up to brush some hair from Harry's face – he was just so _beautiful _– and to his shock the boy jerked back as if he had been hit, scrambling to the other side of the bed and hiding under the blankets like a small child. It would have been cute if Harry wasn't so terrified.

"Harry?" Blaise said worriedly, knowing the boy must have had a flashback. "It's okay, love…" He reached out again, slower, placing his hand on what he thought was Harry's shoulder. Blaise felt his heart break a little when Harry jerked and cried out under his touch, starting to sob.

"Don't…not again…please Uncle Vernon…no…" came a whimpering from the ball under the blankets. "I promise, I can be better. I'll do what they say…"

Blaise frowned. Who were 'they'? And what was Harry supposed to do better?

_Questions for another time,_ he decided as Harry cried harder. He was just thankful that the boy's wounds were healed for the most part; otherwise he would have hurt himself badly by moving so much.

"Harry," Blaise called softly. "Harry, look at me, please." He saw the area that may have been Harry's head quiver slightly. He took this as a no. "He's not here, baby. He can't hurt you again, I promise. Draco and I said we would protect you and we will. We'll never hurt you Harry, no matter what…"

Finally, a beautiful green eye peeked out. He was still crying, but looked to be out of memory-land. Blaise sat slowly on the edge of the bed, and Harry whispered cautiously, "R–really? Can't hurt me? You'll….protect me?"

Blaise nodded. "Yes, love, always. You're our Mate, remember?"

At this a whole head emerged. Harry looked at him for a moment, and then said softly, "Could I have some more water, please?"

"Of course!" Blaise answered immediately. He picked up the cup and handed to Harry, not sure if he should try holding it for him again. To his shock, the raven's whole arm started to shake, and Blaise reached out to grab the cup just in time.

"Sorry!" said Harry quickly, biting his lip nervously. "My arms just don't want to work right…"

"It's fine," the other boy assured him. "You're hungry and you were hurt. It's normal. Here–"

He held the cup carefully for Harry again while he drank, and placed it on the table when he finished. Before Blaise could speak, however, Harry did something completely unexpected...

He launched himself into Blaise's arms, crawling onto his lap and wrapping his arms around his neck, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Safe…can't hurt me…no more 'customers'…" Harry mumbled happily. The Italian had no idea who these 'customers' were, but that could wait.

"H – Harry?" Blaise asked, resting a hand on his small waist. "Are you sure–?" Blaise wasn't complaining – not at all – but he wasn't sure if Harry was truly ready to be so close to someone. He didn't want to frighten him.

"Sorry!" Harry interrupted, pulling away from him. "I know I shouldn't – I just like being touched…when it doesn't hurt. Sorry!" he added again at Blaise's incredulous look.

"No, Harry, its okay!" the Italian assured him. "I like holding you! You have nothing to be sorry for, _bello_."

Harry blushed at the endearment, but leaned back towards Blaise hopefully. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Blaise grinned, opening his arms for the other boy, and Harry quickly scrambled back in. Blaise would have liked to chalk it up to his own 'wonderful people skills', but he knew better: their bond was simply making it easier for Harry to accept comfort from him.

Soon, Harry was sleeping again. His messy black hair rested under Blaise's chin, tickling the other wizard's nose. Blaise didn't mind a bit; the smile on his dark face was huge as he buried his face in Harry's hair, breathing in his scent. It felt different, but not in a bad way. He was used to holding Draco while he slept, or just whenever he could. Harry was lighter, way lighter, smaller, and there was also the fact that Blaise felt way more protective of the brunette than he did the blonde.

His mind flashed to Harry's nightmare, shivers running down his mind. As much as he acted the calm one, or like this didn't bother him too much, it did. This scared the shit out of him. Why would someone want to hurt Harry (other than Death Eaters of course, and most of those were in Azkaban)? Who was 'they'? Were 'they' the same as these 'customers'? And what did he have to do 'better'?

No matter what the answers were, he knew, deep in his very soul, he would **always **protect Harry Potter. Always.

* * *

><p>Draco found his Mates like this around fifteen minutes later. Blaise was staring at Harry, who was sleeping on his lap, like he was the only person in the world. Contrary to what he expected, Draco wasn't a bit jealous. He didn't know why – maybe it had to do with how adorable Harry looked at that moment, or that he had rarely seen Blaise look so happy before.<p>

Draco shook his head roughly. He sounded like such a Hufflepuff – it was probably just his worry coming back from when Harry was hurt. Yes, that would be it.

But…Blaise may have had a point when he said that Harry would need both of them to show that they cared about him. Blaise had said that his typical distance could hurt Harry; Draco would have to admit to himself that he could care openly about more than one person, or Harry could be hurt.

He had hid his emotions, his thoughts behind a mask for so long... That's what his father had taught him, and some part of him hated the man for it. It was one of the biggest things he had to learn to be with Blaise.

Blaise was a feeler, and when Draco would push off, or just offhand his emotions, it hurt Blaise, even if the dark haired boy knew why he did that. The blonde had always been like that, and he didn't know how to change that. His father had forced that mask onto his face from a very young age, and as much as his mother was ashamed to say, she hadn't stopped him.

Staring at the two boys on the bed together, Draco just dropped all pretence. He didn't want to be an emotionless Malfoy anymore. Didn't he promise himself that after the war he would leave his old life behind? And what was he doing now? Hiding behind a mask of the past, that's what. He didn't want to be that person anymore, and he had a feeling that Harry could help him with that.

_Oh, who am I kidding?_ He thought, smiling unconsciously at Harry and Blaise. _Harry's our Mate and I… I care for him._

After years of denying most of his feelings, Draco was proud of himself to admit this.

The blonde watched them, leaning against the door frame. He smiled when he saw Blaise reach out to stroke the sleeping boy's cheek.

"Hey," Blaise whispered when he saw the smiling blonde, though still very aware of the boy currently sleeping in his lap.

Instead of answering his Mate, he walked over to the too-large bed and lay down in front of them.

"Is he okay?" The blonde asked, his eyes moving to watch the beautiful boy in Blaise's arms.

"Yeah, I guess so..."

"I don't want to guess anymore, I want to know for sure he's okay."

The blonde didn't protest as Blaise grabbed his hand, and with a swift shift of the brunette in his arms, they were lying side by side on the bed. Draco reached out and wrapped his arms around Harry's small waist, as Blaise wrapped an arm around the both of them.

"Well, then we'll fix him. We'll make sure we won't have to guess anymore. We **will** help him."

With that, a determined look passed between both men, with a silent promise to help their other half, before they returned to watching the green eyed boy sleep.


End file.
